Before Don Juan
by No Longer a Phan
Summary: How did Mme Giry and Erik really meet? How does the Daroga fit into everything? How well did they know each other?
1. Don't go!

The cellars beneath the Opera Populaire always dripped, even in during its construction. There was always the feeling it had always been there, and that there was something down there, so it was always empty, except for the echoes of song and the phantoms of memory.

Madame Giry raced through the cellars. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gasped for every breath. She knew Erik's plan, and had only one chance to stop him. Darkness pressed in all around her, and rats squeaked and ran away from the light of the lantern. The misty river swirled beneath the sinking arch. How Erik managed to keep his sanity for a lifetime down there, Mme Giry couldn't figure. She didn't ponder it now. There were far more urgent things then unanswered questions.

Mme Giry felt the temperature of the air spike down quite suddenly. She knew the lake was just up ahead. Her stomach churned in fear. _Oh God, please tell me it's not too late!_

"Erik!" Mme Giry called desperately as she reached the lake, careful to keep the lantern at the level of her eyes, so Erik would be able to see her face. "Erik!" Everything was still.

Then out of the darkness, the Phantom appeared. Mme Giry felt little relief.

"Erik, you cannot go!" Mme Giry cried in exasperation.

"So you know," Erik said tersely and, to Mme Giry's distress, completely impassively.

"Erik please- they know you'll be there!' Mme Giry begged him. Erik raised his eyebrows.

"So? They've never caught me before, even when I hung that meddling Joseph Bouquet," Erik said calmly, "are you saying that they can out smart the Phantom that haunts them?"

"No Erik," Mme Giry said, "But you can get careless!"

"I won't this time! There's no way it will fail!" Erik insisted.

"Erik, if you go through with this you'll lose Christine forever! This can only end in disaster!" Erik laughed.

"Whose disaster? _Remember- there are worse things then a shattered chandelier!_" Erik sang. His voice was unearthly and beautiful, but the words and the smile on his face were twisted.

"Erik, This isn't a playground anymore! They're armed!_ they will kill you_!"

"I've never been alive, Mme Giry!" Erik shouted, "I am The Phantom! A monster! If they kill me, then I thank them!"

"Erik you pig! You know that what is on the outside is just a façade! You are as bad as Raoul and the rest of them! _Christine is not your mask so stop hiding behind her!_"

"_The Phantom does not hide!_" he threw his arm at Mme Giry in an enraged slap. Mme Giry made no move to stop him, just twisted her face away. His hand was just a foot away, 6 inches, four inches, two-

Mme Giry waited. She had been slapped by Erik once before and knew it was no use trying to stop him. But she didn't feel anything, at least nothing yet. She knew better than to open her eyes.

What she didn't see was Erik's trembling hand hovering barely an inch from her face. He wanted to slap Mme Giry for what she said, but couldn't bring himself to do it. For a moment, all he felt was anger at Mme Giry for calling him a coward and for himself stopping The Phantom. All The Phantom's hatred and self-loathing bubbled up inside of him, threatening to burst out and destroy everything as his two sides battled.

Erik's soft side won out. His hand went limp and he let out his breath. _How could I slap Mme Giry again? I really am a monster_. Erik's hands gently gripped the sides of Mme Giry's shoulders. Mme Giry looked at Erik in surprise. Her eyes welled up with tears, so she looked down again.

"Erik, _please_… your just going to hurt yourself again- I can't let you do this to yourself all over again."

"I have to. If I don't do anything, I may lose my chance forever."

"But Piangi-"

"He's going to die very soon anyway. That what he gets for pigging out while the world around him starves."

"Erik…" But Mme Giry could not finish. She looked into Erik's black deep eyes, deep as a starless night sky, and couldn't look away. _In love and war we shall support each other. Erik is in both._

"Mme Giry, you know I'm grateful for everything you've done, and I've made sure not to waste it. You know I have to do this. Trust me, it's the most terrifying thing I've ever had to do, and I wish I didn't have to do it." Erik tilted his head forward slightly so his forehead touched Mme Giry's. "If I know you support me, I can do anything, Giry. Please. Trust me." Mme Giry cringed at these words. She could no longer say no, for she always trusted Erik. _Angel or dark seducer…_ Erik _was _dark. But some just couldn't see the light in him.

"Do as you must," Mme Giry said quietly.

"Thank you Mme Giry. That means a lot to me." For a moment Erik didn't move. Then Mme Giry heard the low whistle of a moving cape and Erik was gone. _He made his choice. Please don't make me break my promise to trust you, Erik!_


	2. To save Erik from himself

Disclaimer: Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber are men and I am the ox they drive in a metaphorical sense.

OH MAN THAT IS NASTY YOU SICK MINDED PEOPLE! I MEAN THEY OWN IT. HONESTLY.

…

The Opera Populaire was full to see _Don Juan Triumphant_ that night. The cast, dancers and backstage workers unaware of _Don Juan Triumphant's_ origins were impatient to begin. Those who did know could wait. But it was time. The curtain flew up with a jerk, revealing the chorus of _Don Juan Triumphant_.

_"Here the sire may serve the dam, here the master takes his meat! Here the sacrificial lamb utters one despairing bleat!_" The chorus sang. The ballet rats couldn't find Mme Giry, and they were going on in just a moment.

"Where is Mme Giry?" one asked, fingering their spiral curls uneasily.

"I don't know!" another chirped. All the ballet rats were nervously twittering in the wings of the stage of _Don Juan Triumphant_ except for Meg, who was simply silent and scared.

"What if-" At that moment Mme Giry came in, looking not even slightly flustered, but somewhat pale. All the ballet rats erupted into a wave questions. Meg looked at her mother earnestly.

"Stop chatting! Your about to go on," she snapped. The ballet rats squealed and arranged themselves. They all new something about the whole production of _Don Juan Triumphant _wasn't right, and their suspicions were confirmed by Mme Giry's late arrival. Still, they went on and danced. Mme Giry kept a blind eye on them.

"_Passarino, faithful friend! Once again recite the plan…_" Piangi sang. Mme Giry's attention was fixed up on the catwalks. _Where's Erik? Did he change his mind?_ Mme Giry hoped so. She lowered her gaze to the ballet rats, who for once were actually in step. _The chorus was entrancing but the dancing was a lamentable mess!_ Erik wasn't one to lie or be diplomatic, and she had smiled fondly when she heard Erik's underlying message- _You're all insolent fools and YOU NEED TO PAY ME!_

The Ballet girls danced off. _Where is Erik?_

"Mother?" Meg asked in a whisper, "Is everything alright?"

"_Master?"_ Passarino sang, almost echoing Meg's voice. There was still no sign of Erik, which both relieved and worried Mme Giry simultaneously.

_"Passarino- go away for the trap is set and waits for its prey…"_ Mme Giry gasped and gripped Meg's hand.

"Mom? What's wrong? What's going on?" Meg looked up at her mother.

"_He's Here!"_ Mme Giry whispered, "_The Phantom of the Opera!" Not Erik._

_"You have come here in pursuit of you deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silenced…_" Mme Giry listened to Erik's distinct voice in fear. "_Silenced…" _Mme Giry's heart was pounding in her chest. She didn't know what to do. _There's nothing I can do now._

"_The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn! We've passed the point of no return…"_ For a several sickening moments, there was silence. Mme Giry now watched the Phantom and Christine. The silence throbbed in Mme Giry's ears. Mme Giry was aware of nothing else. She saw Erik fingering a ring, Christine staring at him, and felt Meg's body against her own. Still silence.

"_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime- lead me, save me from my solitude…"_ Mme Giry saw Erik hold the ring out to Christine. She took it.

Mme Giry knew at that moment that Erik had been careless. He had written the whole plot to _Don Juan_ wrong- it tempted him too much. The Point of No Return had finished off the job. Christine was going to take off his mask again and the officers would shoot him. In the confusion that would flood the stage, there would be no telling what could happen.

"_Say you want me with you, here beside you…_" Christine flipped the face scarf Erik was wearing as Don Juan up, revealing his mask. The crowd gasped in shock, and the ballet girls squealed, "The Phantom of the Opera! The Phantom is here!"

Erik kept singing, oblivious of the danger. "_Anywhere you go, let me go too! Christine, that's all I ask of-_" And Christine ripped Erik's mask off.

For a moment, Erik stood stock-still. Police officers spilled onto the stage, their guns loaded and aimed, and Raoul dashed from his box. Mme Giry wanted to scream, _Get out of there! Forget Christine!_ But she couldn't speak. Before Mme Giry could even try to speak, the Phantom threw his cloak around Christine and ran off the set of his own Opera, _Don Juan Triumphant_.

…

Raoul ran around backstage, looking for traces of Christine's trail. Mme Giry saw her chance.

"Monsieur! I know where they are!" Mme Giry cried.

"But can I trust you?" Raoul challenged. What was she to say? Mme Giry didn't dare betray the Phantom. But Raoul had no obligations except to keep Erik away from Christine.

"You must!" she insisted, "but remember- keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

"But why?"

"Why?" This question had already occurred to Mme Giry; Erik was going on instinct, and he was alone with Christine and his Punjab Lasso. "The Punjab Lasso, Monsieur- first Bouquet. Now Piangi." She hated helping Raoul, but she had no choice. Mme Giry needed to find a way not only to save Christine from the Phantom, but Erik from himself.

…

Chapter suggestions names are always good


	3. Hide him!

…

Mme Giry led Raoul down the sinking arch until the temperature spiked down. Her feet refused to go any farther forward.

"This is as far as I dare go," Mme Giry said nervously. If The Phantom found out she led Raoul down there, he would kill her. For telling Raoul how to protect himself, The Phantom would torture her, even if it was for his own good.

"Thank you, Mme Giry," Raoul said. Mme Giry looked down, turned, and walked quickly back up the sinking arch, fighting back tears. _Forgive me, Erik._

…

It was just after a performance in the Opera Populaire, and the ballet girls were running off stage from the final bow. All of them were hyped up and chattered away like a pair of false teeth.

The dance instructor, Madame Fehater, did little to calm them. In fact, she lavished them so that it simply made them even more animated.

"Very good girls!" she cawed with a nasal accent, strutting like a peacock through the small, ballet-rat-crowded passage. Antoinette Giry rolled her eyes. _She's not even that good a dancer. Who hired Mme Fehater anyway?_ Antoinette was, naturally, a ballet rat. She was a little more serious about dancing then most of her fellows, though. Her father had sent her to the Opera Populaire to partially to satisfy Antoinette's mother's expectations of her, but mainly to get her out of the house. She had been excited at first, but after being there several years, it had gotten very insipid. Dance, dance, dance, all day long, while not even studying from a good teacher. When the ballet rats would finish dancing, all they would ever really do was talk, drink and hang out with men. _Nothing ever happens around this dump_.

It was just then Antoinette caught sight of a rather disheveled looking man speaking with Mme Fehater. His light brown hair looked scraggily and bed headed, and he had dark bags beneath his eyes, which were open very wide. He seemed both exhausted and frightened, as if he had been running away from something all night. Antoinette was curious to find out why.

Or was, until Mme Fehater beckoned to her. Antoinette suddenly wanted the man to run away as he had been doing and not bring his troubles to her. Still, she unwilling picked her way through the cloud of buzzing ballet-rats.

"Is something wrong, Monsieur?" Antoinette asked nervously.

"Are you Mademoiselle Giry?" he sputtered quickly. Antoinette nodded. "Then you must come with me. Make haste! Please!" he took Antoinette's wrist and led her out of the theater.

"Monsieur, please, I really must know what this is about," Antoinette begged, "Please, what is going on?" the man shook his head.

"No time. The Persian will explain it later," He said quietly, "Now please, _make haste!_"

"The Persian? You mean the Daroga?' Antoinette asked in surprise. The Daroga had been friend of her fathers when he still worked in the police force. _But I haven't seen Daroga in over five years!_ The Daroga had started working for the Shah-in-Shah in Mazenderan in 1851, when Antoinette was five. Her father had said that Mazenderan was a foul place filled with gypsies and liars, but Daroga refused to stay in Paris.

"Yes, Daroga, the Persian," He agreed quickly, "Come! There is no time to lose!" They were outside now and speeding over to a small black carriage with skidish looking horses. "Daroga, sir, Mlle Giry is here!"

It had been seven years, and several months, but Antoinette recognized Daroga with his astrakhan cap instantly. His jade eyes were familiar, but seemed to be distracted, as if looking for something he could not see. Normally Antoinette would have been thrilled to see him, but the situation just made her afraid, and seeing Daroga felt the same way didn't help.

"Mlle Giry, take him!" the Daroga cried, "take the monster and hide him so they cannot find him!" Antoinette tried to respond, but was at a loss for words. The daroga jumped out of the carriage and walked over to Antoinette, holding the wrist of boy about her own age wearing a crude half-mask made out of wood. "Please, Mlle Giry, take him and hide the monster, before they find him first!" looking at the boy, Antoinette couldn't say no.

"Al-alright," Antoinette stammered, "but-"

"There is no time for questions!" daroga declared, "just hide him, or they will kill him and us along with it!" And with that, daroga leapt back into the carriage and the driver (the same man who had taken Antoinette to daroga) drove the carriage as fast as it would go.

Almost as soon as they drove off, Antoinette could see a group of soldiers riding on horses gallop down the street, their muskets slung over their backs. They were pointing and shouting, some at the shrinking image of daroga's carriage, other at Antoinette and the boy daroga had given her to take. Antoinette forced herself not to panic.

"Come with me!" Antoinette whispered to the boy, "_run!"_ Antoinette took the boys wrist and began running. She felt him willingly go with her. _Find a way to throw the soldiers off_. She hadn't a clue where she was going. All she knew is that it away from the soldiers and their muskets. Somewhere safe.

"There it is!" she heard one of the soldiers shout, "Ready? Aim?" before she heard the finish, Antoinette ducked into the Opera Populaire through a window to the lower levels.

Being only a few minutes after a performance, the lower levels were still empty. In just a few minutes, they would be teaming with people. _That will slow them down_. Antoinette looked around for a new route to take so they wouldn't get caught in the crowd like the soldiers hopefully would.

"Quick," Antoinette whispered to the boy, "To the chapel!" the boy had been listening, but at the same time glancing around, trying to get a lay of the land. In fear, Antoinette let go of his wrist and sprinted into the chapel herself.

Now the boy was lost. It had all happened so quickly. In the distance he heard the Mazenderan scouts thundering down the stairs. He looked around in fear, trying to find where his guide had went.

"Here!" Antoinette whispered, as if reading his mind. The boy looked in the direction of Antoinette's voice. There were two doors. He knew a wrong decision was fatal.

"They went in here!" the echo of a gruff voice filled the passage. He glanced between the two doors.

Then he recognized something- a cross. He knew what a chapel was and what a cross was and knew where chapels were there were crosses, so he ducked in, hoping with all his heart he was right.

Indeed, he was right. Antoinette was waiting for him in the Chapel.

"Come quickly!" she whispered. She heard the thundering of the soldiers flooding the corridor in search of him. "Oh god, where will you be safe from them?"

"How about the cellars?" he offered. Antoinette stared at him- it was the first thing he had said to her, and it was the most intelligible thing she had heard all week.


	4. Erik's Eyes

Disclaimer: not mine

Forenote- It's not my fault this took so long to update. A few days ago I tried to, but FF net was being screwy. Enjoy and be horrified!

…

Down in the cellars, Antoinette and the boy finally had a chance to stop. They rested in silence, apart from their own gasps.

"Who are you?" Antoinette blurted out suddenly, "Why are they chasing you?"

"My name is Erik," the boy replied, masking his insecurity with a placid smile, "And they're chasing be because I know too much about the Shah-in-Shah's palace." Antoinette raised her eyebrows, and Erik dared to continue. "I designed it." For a moment, Antoinette was silent.

"Why do you wear a mask?" Erik dreaded this question. He turned his face in shame. Any confidence he had attained quickly vanished, and he just wanted to hide.

"I- I dare not say," Erik stammered quickly. Antoinette began reaching over to his mask. Erik snatched her hand. "Don't!" He snarled viciously. Antoinette recoiled slightly in shock, but Erik still held her hand, his grip tightening. Erik's yellow eyes became a savage blaze that made Antoinette try to pull back in fear, but she was unable to. Erik's hand seemed more like a writhing claw, digging into her flesh like five hot knives, heated by the hellish inferno of Erik's eyes.

Then Erik's hands began trembling, and he let her hand slip from and looked away, as if filled with shame. "Forgive me…"

"It's alright," Antoinette said quietly before lapsing into an uneasy silence. She felt guilty at trying to remove Erik's mask- why would he wear if he didn't mind it being off?

The problem with that question is it always leads back to why would he wear it at all. He seemed very hansom from what could be seen of him, and even Antoinette couldn't ignore that…

However, she had little time to consider it anyway, for in the distance she heard the stampeding approach of the soldiers. Antoinette whirled around, and Erik's eyes darted off into the distance over her shoulder.

"Go!" Antoinette whispered, "hide in the shadows! I'll talk to them and divert them somewhere else!" Erik nodded and practically vaporized before her eyes. Antoinette nervously scampered toward the noise of footsteps, trying to intersect the soldiers.

This proved far easier than Antoinette would have liked, but she pretended she hadn't noticed as she skidded to a halt in front of them.

"Madame-moiselle," one soldier huffed, "have you seen a monster come this way?" Antoinette reframed from laughing at the obscurity of the question.

"A monster?" Antoinette asked.

"In the shape of a boy, about your age," the soldier grunted an explanation, "I believe he's adorned a half mask to hide his monstrosities." Antoinette pretended to search her memory, before nodding slowly.

"Yes, I do believe I did," she said sweetly, "He went that-" The soldier grabbed Antoinette by the throat and hurled her against the wall.

"Of course you did!" he snarled, "you hustled him away from that lying bastard's carriage!" The soldier snatched her up and drove his fist deep into her stomach, driving the wind out of her. As Antoinette struggled to regain her breath, the soldier threw her onto the floor. He put his boot on Antoinette's chest, slowly driving the consciousness out of her body.

Dully aware of what was around her, she sensed a change in the atmosphere of the soldiers. Antoinette saw, but did not hear, the soldiers turn around and point at something. One of them loaded a musket, but before he could fire it, was leapt upon by Erik. In frenzy the soldiers attacked Erik, but he was able to dive out of the pile. Antoinette hardly took this in, too unaware to help him or run. She felt no emotion as Erik felled his third soldier, nor when another smashed his mask to pieces and he fell to the ground.


End file.
